


(Un)breakable Bonds

by IcyPanther



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Bounty Hunters, Gen, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Langst, Lion Bonds, Red Paladin Lance (Voltron), Torture, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 04:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14584503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: The bond between a Lion and Paladin is one of the strongest in the universe. So when Keith is left injured and alone to die following a botched Blade mission, the Red Lion has to save him. Even if it means abandoning her current Paladin. But Lance is fine. It's not like he was captured by bounty hunters to be tortured the moment she left or anything."I told you," Lance swallowed thickly. "I don't know where Red is.""Wrong answer, sweetie."Lance's scream echoed.





	(Un)breakable Bonds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FrostPheyonix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostPheyonix/gifts).



> **Timeline notes:** Set during season four after Keith joins the Blade  
>  **Warning notes:** Some mild torture but nothing terribly graphic. Some blood and injuries.

Lance was trying very hard not to give into the urge to curse. One; because such language was rather vulgar and should only be used in the most extreme and horrible of circumstances and he did not yet want to admit that this was one such occasion. And two; doing so would mean making noise and giving away his position and he absolutely did not want to be found.

He was hunkered down in an alleyway next to a large stack of crates, breath coming in shallow pants from his all out sprint through the near labyrinth of cobbled streets that had made up what he had considered a rather quaint town up until ten minutes ago.

Glancing down at his side, Lance winced as he could see crimson welling up beneath his gloved hand that he'd pressed to his side, the undersuit of their uniform unfortunately not having the shielding of the rest of the armor. It could normally hold up decently well to light laser fire, but apparently it didn't so well against space bow and arrows.

He'd been sent here on what was supposed to be a quick errand to make contact with one of the growing Coalition's many informants and deliver one of Voltron's emergency signal beacons for future use.

Well, turns out the informant was actually a Galra sympathizer slash bounty hunter and the entire thing had been a trap with the endgame of capturing a Paladin of Voltron to use as a meal ticket. Lance had of course only learned of this after he had given them the beacon, removed his helmet and therefore his communication system, and handed his bayard over to what he thought was the informant's drop-dead gorgeous daughter (she was not, for the record, but she was apparently an expert with stiletto daggers) when she asked for a closer look at the vaunted weapon of a Paladin and who was Lance to say no to a pretty face?

They really needed a better vetting system, he decided, and maybe,  _maybe,_ he needed to reconsider any requests made by beautiful alien ladies when it came to his Lion or his weapon. Twice now. Apparently he had not learned his lesson from Nyma, although she was part of the rebellion now so how did that work exactly?

The bounty hunter had had friends stashed inside his house - apparently he had a team and wasn't that just precious? - and one of them was armed with a legit bow with arrows, except the arrows were the size of Pidge's fist and hit just as hard.

He'd been forced to retreat as, see above reason for no longer having a weapon, and now here he was, needing a quick breather before he continued his sprint to where he'd parked the Red Lion on the outskirts of the town. Assuming the bad guys hadn't already beelined for his Lion, but, well, Red was his ticket out of here. And once he got within sight of her hopefully she could go all bang-kaboom-pow and cover him.

Lance shifted from his hunkered down position, keeping his right hand pressed against his wound. It was by no means a fatal hit, but he was already feeling a bit light-headed from how much blood he had lost. The longer he waited here the worse he was going to get and the more time to allow the bounty hunters to regroup.

Because as crafty as they were, when Lance had grabbed the first projectile he'd seen - a bowl with a candle in it - and chucked it at the rug on the floor and it had gone up in flames, they had panicked and there was yelling about the house and water and crying about a family heirloom and  _put it out!_

Lance had not been one to look a gift horse in the mouth and had taken the distraction for all it was worth and at this point he didn't think they had a lead on him as he'd been able to staunch the bloodflow with his glove and hadn't left a trail.

Cocking his head, Lance listened for any signs of pursuit after his short break, but there was only the gentle hum of the town. He debated going to another home for assistance, but he didn't want to put any innocent lives in danger. Besides, it was maybe a couple minutes sprint to Red and once he got to her he was home free.

Lance took one deep breath, wincing and regretting as it pulled painfully on his wound, but then pushed himself out of the alley before he could stall any longer. He didn't quite run as fast as he had been, stitch growing on his side, but he still moved quickly and near silently.

Still no signs of pursuit.

Lance grinned as the hill that he'd parked Red atop of came into sight and despite the extra push needed to force his flagging feet up the incline, he did so.

Only to blink as instead of a Red Lion sitting where he'd left here there were only prairie grasses swaying in the slight breeze.

What.

The.

Quiznack?

Lance spun in a slow circle. He hadn't come to the wrong spot, had he? He knew he wasn't quite as adept at directions as say Shiro or Keith, but he was a pretty good eye for landmarks and, yup, this was definitely the right hill.

Just…

No Red Lion.

"Red?" he called out, as though it could summon her.

A sharp whistling sound answered him. Lance frowned. That wasn't Red. That sounded like…

His eyes widened and he spun around, drawing his shield in the same movement, but the arrow had already lodged itself in the back of his knee, the one spot where the armor didn't cover.

Lance managed a half choked scream as his leg gave out beneath him, pulsing agony swimming up the limb. The bounty hunters were charging up the hill, weapons drawn. Lance managed to block the next arrow with his shield, but even he knew it was a lost cause as upon trying to stand he fell back down with a cry, his leg refusing to cooperate.

He still didn't give up.

Lance knew he was lacking severely in hand to hand combat compared to most of the other Paladins, but he wasn't completely defenseless. On his knees he swung his shield out and up, catching stiletto dagger girl in the chin and sending her stumbling back. Whipping it around he smashed it across the kneecaps of his contact, who was wielding a huge hammer that matched the shape of his huge head.

But it was five of them against one of him and he had nowhere to go even had he been mobile.

Arrow guy shot another bolt and while it didn't pierce the armor of Lance's arm beneath the shield, it still hit like a boulder and let out a yelp as his shield disintegrated as it disrupted the output.

The fourth and fifth members of the team, who  _had_ to be related as they were exact mimics of each other except one was most definitely female came at him then, each wielding a shortsword. Lance caught the female alien's blade against his crossed arms with a grunt, but he couldn't defend against the second and its hilt smashed against his head.

He hit the ground with a thump, head reeling and vision going in and out. A pair of booted feet swam into sight, one drawing back.

Lance had only a moment to realize what was going to happen, a protest forming on his lips, before the kick connected and everything went dark.

xxx

Keith was in trouble.

More so than usual considering all Blade missions were dangerous. Because this time?

This time he'd missed the rendezvous and the other Blades had left him behind thanks to their mission is more important than the individual mantra they all believed in.

Keith wondered for the hundredth time why he'd ever thought  _this_ was the team he had decided to align himself with. The Paladins would have never left him behind. They were a team. They'd have come and gotten him when he'd announced over the comms that he was down, voice a mere whisper of what it normally was as blood choked his throat and black spots danced in his vision.

But that wasn't the response he'd gotten from the Blade member in charge of this mission. All he'd been told was to get to the rendezvous or he would be left behind.

Well…

Keith had been left behind.

Left behind on a hostile Galra ship they'd infiltrated to obtain records regarding a weapons depot, but one that had been guarded a bit more securely than they had been led to believe. Keith had been assigned to draw the enemies' fire so the others could move more easily about the ship.

And he had done so. Maybe a little too well as at least twenty sentries and a few flesh and blood Galran officers had descended upon him. Keith had been doing fairly well when one of the officers had gotten a lucky shot with his own sword that had sliced open his leg through the thick Marmora uniform.

Keith had tried his best to compensate for the suddenly sluggish limb, and while he had managed to take out the remaining forces he'd suffered a few more blaster shots than he normally would have had he been at full mobility.

But the sword that had pierced through his stomach?

That one had been killer.

He snorted wetly at the horrible choice of words and entirely blamed Lance for them, the noise turning into a low moan as he curled up tighter around the impaled blade that had taken up residence inside of him.

He'd dispatched the Galran with a thrust and stumbled away from the mess of bodies and sparking sentries, calling in then that he was down and wasn't going to be able to make it back within the four remaining minutes.

And help had not come.

Keith had tried.

He'd dragged himself down the corridor, bloody handprints in his wake, but he was going much, much too slow. Every step jostled the sword and he knew it would be instant death to pull it out, as it was the only thing keeping his insides for the most part still inside.

The timer in his hood had gone off at the four minutes and that had been that.

Keith had paused, legs trembling beneath him, in the hall of the enemy ship and realized that  _this_ was it. It was only a matter of time until he was found. He had a choice to make before that happened. The first to kill himself now – the solution to that an easy yank of the sword out of his stomach – and make certain that the Galra did not get any information from him about either Blade or Paladin activities.

Not that he would tell them, but he was under no qualms that he would be tortured should he be retaken alive. And while he liked to think he would withstand it until his dying breath he had no idea what abilities were out there. It was possible the Galrans employed mind readers or had truth serums or some sort of detector.

It was either that or stand and fight one last time, to go down swinging and take as many as he could out with him. But again, it went back to the above and if he was captured alive then he already knew what fate awaited him.

Keith's hand landed on the blood-covered hilt of the sword, even that gentle vibration sending pain shooting through him and he bit his lip to contain his cry.

What did he do?

It wasn't in him to give up. He'd rather go down swinging in a blaze of whatever fool's glory there was then to just surrender and accept death.

But if he lived and because of him he hurt the others with whatever little information the Galrans learned…

He would never be able to forgive himself.

What did he do?

He took another stumbling step forward, not sure where he was going but he needed to go  _somewhere._

His body had other plans though and with a wail he could not hold back his legs collapsed beneath him and his vision whited out in agony as the hilt of the sword smashed into the metal plated floor.

Keith whimpered as he pushed himself onto his side.

He… He wanted Shiro.

Shiro had been a bit more distant of late, which had been one of the main reasons Keith had left. Keith being leader, despite having been Shiro's wishes for him to take up the mantle in his place, clearly had not sat well and Keith knew Shiro was a much, much  _much_ better fit in the role of the Black Paladin. And once the Black Lion had reaccepted Shiro that was the end of any more excuses Keith had not to leave.

But still, even then, Shiro had fully supported his decision to join the Blades and had told him how proud he was. Shiro had  _never_ let him down. Not ever.

And right now he would do anything for Shiro to be here and reassure him that somehow things were going to be all right. He knew Shiro would know what to do. Shiro always knew.

Where as he… he just tried to do what he thought was best. How had Shiro ever thought he'd make a good leader? Hot tears pricked his eyes and Keith hurriedly blinked them back.

He hadn't even really bonded with the Black Lion. Not the way he had connected with Red. Red was… special. Outside of Shiro she had been the first one to accept him, wholly and unequivocally, and understood that his passion and feelings often manifested themselves as anger even though that wasn't how he really felt. She understood because fire was the same way.

He didn't talk to her like he knew Lance did (done, he winced at the fact his was not the only bond broken) with Blue, but he knew she was always there for him when he needed her to be. Her purr was a soothing murmur to quell the worst of his own hot-tempered flames, a reminder to  _focus,_ which then made him think of patience yields focus, which brought him back to Shiro and the Black Lion and he let out a low moan as his thoughts tumbled as surely as his stomach.

The Black Lion was strong, yes. And wise. But she was as distant as the space and sky she represented. She had been hurting, Keith could tell, at the loss of Shiro. And he… he was not Shiro. He didn't even come close. She had accepted him because the universe had required it but they had been co-workers, not partners. Not what a Paladin and Lion should be. And he had never been the leader the Paladins had needed.

But right now he wished he hadn't been so quick to leave. He could have still stepped down as leader and remained with the Paladins. He could have taken Red back and… and then what? Would Allura have surrendered the Blue Lion back to Lance? Would Lance have even accepted if she had?

Keith winced again and spat out a mouth of hot blood.

He remembered their conversation, vaguely, but the gist of it had been Lance counting Paladins to Lions and alluding to the fact that if there was one too many… that he would step aside. Keith had waved it off then, some stupid thing about numbers and Pidge, but now he wondered what actually would have come to pass had he chosen to stay. Would Lance have been the odd man out?

It didn't matter now, he supposed. He had left and now he was dying. More copper tickled the back of his throat and he gagged around it, stomach spasming as he coughed and sending new ribbons of agony all through him.

He had no idea how he hadn't been found yet. Surely a patrol would have to come this way when everyone failed to respond.

Keith still wasn't sure what he was going to do when that moment came. His right hand clenched around his luxite blade, which had shrunk back to a knife when he'd fallen. If… if he could manage it, he could rip the sword out of him and attack with both blades. Take as many out as he could and he would likely die from the wound and blood loss before they could perform field surgery, assuming the Galrans even know how.

Keith closed his eyes, resigned but determined. That was the best outcome.

He just…

He just wished he'd had a chance to say good bye.

He hadn't made contact with the castle in over two weeks. He wasn't a social creature by nature and sometimes the solitude of the Blades base felt more comfortable than the castle. The others had reached out though. Lance had left him a couple messages, mostly about random goings on about the castle and reminding him to eat and make sure he was getting enough sleep like some mother hen, although Keith had been warmed by the thought of Lance looking out for his well being.

Hunk and Pidge had each left one, also checking in and Pidge wanting to know if he'd heard any leads about her dad. Even Allura and Coran had jointly called and left a video chat message, asking in hushed whispers if he could tell them what a cow actually was because Lance had done something _horrifying_  and they weren't sure if they needed to stage an intervention.

There had been no message from Shiro.

It had been that reason that Keith hadn't reached out, not yet. He kept holding onto the hope that Shiro would check in, make sure he was doing all right, that he was indeed sleeping enough.

But he hadn't.

And Keith was regretting being so stubborn that he hadn't just called them himself. Because now he couldn't.

He'd never hear their voices again.

There were certainly other voices coming his way though, guttural and low.

This was it.

His right hand tightened on the luxite and his left about the hilt of the impaled sword, swallowing down his moan as he hefted himself back up to kneeling. He was going to have to move  _fast_ if he wanted to take them down, but he needed to wait until the last possible second to remove the second blade.

The sound of both robotic feet hitting the ground as well as the harsher tap of actual boots was coming closer. Keith tensed.

And then he sound was broken up by a roar that echoed both outside the ship and inside his head.

Amethyst eyes widened, not daring to believe.

"Red?"

Red roared again and there was the harsh sound of metal being rent open and then the screams of the Galran officers who had just been sucked into the void of space from down the hall.

Keith felt his own body lifting up as the currents sucked about him.

But he was not afraid.

This was just like their first meeting. Except in a bit of reverse order. A sharp, bloodied grin filled his face and Keith tucked his luxite blade clumsily back into his sheath and activated his face mask against the atmosphere of space.

A moment later he was hurtling out of the ship, star-speckled universe around him, and then into the waiting jaws of the Red Lion.

Her concern was nearly overwhelming as he let out a strangled scream, landing once more on the hilt of the blade as the gravity kicked back on inside of her. He could feel her urgency, her fear and… Guilt? He placed one hand against the floor, trying to channel his thanks and that he was okay, all things considered.

She roared again and took off with a jump.

"L-Lance?" Keith called out weakly as he continued to lie in Red's mouth, waiting for her current Paladin to come assist him and was surprised he hadn't heard Lance's worried blabbering from here.

A few more moments passed and no Lance was to be found.

"Red?" he managed, and yet again he felt that odd sensation of guilt, although it was tamped down by all-encompassing feelings of  _safe_ and  _protect_ and  _mine._

It only made Keith feel more uneasy and Red did not seem to be inclined to explain further. Keith struggled to his feet, grasping at the wall to propel himself towards the cockpit.

"Lance?" he gasped out again as the chair pulled into sight. "H-hey, what…?"

He trailed off as the seat was clearly empty.

Red was driving herself.

Except… except that it was clear she hadn't taken off from the castle on her own. There was a bevy of documents sprawled across her dashboard, a bunched quilt on the floor and a too large mirror on top the console. Lance had been in her, very recently.

But if he wasn't now… and Red was here, projecting guilt, then…

"Red?" he whispered, sinking to the ground next to the quilt as black spots filled his vision once more. "What have you done?"

A mournful roar was the last thing he heard as he slumped over in unconsciousness.

xxx

Lance came to sputtering with water dripping into his eyes and out of his mouth. Something clenched in his hair and his head was wrenched backwards until it slammed into what he was vaguely identifying as the back of a chair.

"Don't knock him out again," chided a light voice. "We just woke him up." A mutter. "Moron."

Lance blinked past the water still dripping from his bangs and took in the blurred forms of dagger girl, a dark red bruise forming on the bottom of her light-pink skinned chin, and his contact and hammer-wielder whose arm was the one forcing his head up.

His head was aching and even sitting as he was his leg and stomach were pulsing where the arrows had struck. He'd been stripped of his armor, he realized, although still wearing his full undersuit. A quick shift of his hands revealed they had been bound at his wrists and elbows to the chair arms and his feet and legs had received the same.

So. Typical torture chair set up. He hadn't yet had the opportunity to experience such but he supposed his streak couldn't have held out forever considering his role in this war. Rule number one that he'd just created for this scenario: don't let them see that he was more than a little freaked out. Rule number two: see if there was any chance for escape.

And lo and behold, they hadn't secured his head or torso and the hand in his hair had grown somewhat lax at the chiding from the female alien. His bayard too was sitting on a table just past them along with his pile of armor and the distress beacon he'd delivered. It was just the two of them and if he could disable one, distract the other and then hop the chair over, which upon a slight rock he could tell was not bolted down, he'd be home clear.

Morons indeed.

Lance jerked forward and headbutted the asshole holding onto him and although he felt some strands part from his head – please don't let there be a bald spot, please don't let there be a bald spot – the large alien stumbled back with an  _oof._

"Ha!" Lance crowed, even as he shifted to throw his weight forward at the pink-skinned girl who looked shocked by the action. "You are a mor—"

He cut off with a choking noise as a piece of rope wrapped around his neck from behind and yanked him flush to the chair, coarse fibers digging into his throat. He could do nothing except wriggle as it was tied behind and his movement nearly completely restricted now save for turning his head.

"Thank you, Rewolf," she inclined her head and Lance heard a grunt behind him. "That will be all. I and this idiot can take it from here."

"As you wish, Lewot. Egnaro, try not to embarrass yourself."

"Don't talk to me like that," Egnaro, the axe-wielder, growled. "I am your leader!"

"For now."

"What does that mean?" came an enraged snarl.

"Uh hey guys," Lance interjected, sensing a moment, "if you want to have a mutiny and all please, be my guest, but I'd  _really_ appreciate not being a part of it."

"Quiet!" barked Egnaro. Lance didn't even have a tick to brace for the open-handed slap that sent his head smashing to the opposite side. "You!" he turned his attention past Lance and his stinging cheek. "Out!"

"Feel better?" Lewot asked saccharinely as a door shut off to the side.

"I don't," Lance offered up. "Look, let me cut to the chase here. Dealing with the Galra is a bad, really bad, idea. You're better off just letting me go and we can sweep this whole thing under the rug."

Egnaro's yellow skin purpled. "You  _dare_ bring up great-great-great grandma Akdov's treasured rug you destroyed?"

"Bury the hatchet?" Lance put forth instead.

"You—"

"It is pointless to barter, Paladin," Lewot cut in. "We will not be releasing you. However, you can spare yourself some pain before we turn you over to the Galra if you behave and answer our questions."

"Uh, yeah, no can do," Lance rolled his shoulders as best he could. "See, one, I would never tell you anything. And two, I really don't know anything you guys would be interested in. All that top-secret stuff really isn't my deal."

"Then it is a good thing what we are after is not high-level information," Lewot smirked. "It is something even one as pathetic as yourself should be able to answer."

"Ouch, lady.  _You're_ the one that got hit by my shield when I was pretty much a sitting duck. What's that say about you?"

In answer Lewot rammed a closed fist into Lance's side right over his wound and he hated the scream that was torn from him, vision darkening for a moment.

He came back to hear her talking, overly sweet tones near sickening to him now. "—the Galra will be the ones to extract that sort of information, if you even have any. What we want from you," she leaned over, one webbed hand braced on the back of the chair and face inches from Lance's own, "is the location of the Red Lion."

Lance's plan to pull up a wad of spit and hit her nose with it fell away as his mouth opened in surprise instead.

"What?"

"The Red Lion," she repeated. "Where is it?"

"Why are you asking me?" Lance furrowed his nose. "You guys are the ones that moved her."

At least, he assumed they had. It was possible after all. Red had ridden around in a Galra cruiser for who knew how many thousands of years, stationary and waiting. The Lions didn't fight back unless they were being operated by a Paladin so if the bounty hunters had – and Lance had assumed some more of their team had taken her earlier while he was inside the town - wanted to lion-nap her they could have done so with a tractor beam or their own large ship.

But… they hadn't?

Then where was Red?

"I will ask nicely once more, Paladin," Lewot said, leaning back now and crossing her arms beneath a voluminous chest. "Where is the Red Lion?"

"You tell me," Lance snapped. "What did you do to Red?"

She sighed. "Egnaro?"

The large ringleader stepped forward and his beefy hands latched around Lance's right pinky finger. Lance paled. "W-wait—"

A sharp crack rent the air and Lance sucked in a harsh breath to keep from screaming.

"Where is the Red Lion?"

"I told you," Lance said through gritted teeth. "You guys took her."

His ring finger was snapped next.

"We can do this all day," Lewot said. "Save yourself the pain, sweetie, and just tell us."

"Why do you want her?" Lance asked his own question. His middle finger was broken for it and that time he couldn't swallow back the gasp of pain.

"So we can sell her to the Galra as well. The Lions are worth  _much_ more than just a Paladin," she shrugged.

"Even if I knew I wouldn't tell you," Lance bit out, a muted scream torn from him as his index finger was shattered.

He cast his mind out against the pain, seeking  _any_ sign of his wayward Lion.

Where had she  _gone?_ Had someone else taken her instead? Why hadn't she at least alerted him she was in distress?

Did she trust him that little to save her?

"Hey, honey," manicured fingers tapped Lance's cheek, dragging him from his thoughts. "No zoning out on us this early, okay? We haven't even gotten started."

"I told you," Lance swallowed thickly. "I don't  _know_ where Red is."

"Wrong answer, sweetie."

And with that Lance's thumb was wrenched backwards, the tissue and bones giving up a bit more of a fight in the hardier finger. But it too succumbed after a moment to Egnaro and that time Lance  _screamed,_ his head smashing into the back of the chair as though that could relieve some of the fire coursing down his hand.

"Do you wish to tell us now?" Lewot murmured, hand coming to cup Lance's cheek and brush away the reflexive tears that were streaming from his eyes.

"N-no," Lance managed. "And I  _can't._ I don't  _know."_

"Oh sweetie," her thumb caressed his cheek before her fingers tightened, digging half-moons into his flesh. "This is going to hurt."

They ravaged his left hand next while he continued to alternate between crying out that he didn't know and remaining mutinously silent, throwing his senses out every which way for any sign of Red.

And, he realized, as they moved onto his feet, he needed to endure this for as long as he could. He actually needed to make it last. Because once they grew tired of this line of questioning, once they really for sure realized he had no idea where the Red Lion had gone, they would contact the Galra and he was as good as gift-wrapped.

The longer he stalled, the more time it gave the others to realize something was wrong.

If they even did.

He was expected back sometime later in the day, but Allura had given him permission to explore the town and convene with the locals. He had, she had smiled at him so softly that he had felt his face turn dark, quite a talent for connecting with people and she hoped he would continue to spread Voltron and the Coalition's message even after he had delivered the beacon. It was permission to mingle, to see the culture on the planet Ekal and Lance had been ecstatic that Allura trusted him to do so and represent Voltron.

Now though, he wished Allura had given him a deadline. He may be a bit of a goof but with all that was happening he wouldn't have stayed out past a direct order. She'd have known something was wrong.

But as it stood…

They wouldn't realize until later in the evening. And at that point it might be too late. But he still had to try. He could do this.

"Where is the Red Lion?"

The question was practically white noise at this point, the only difference the tone growing sharper and sharper.

This time though, before they moved onto his first big toe, Lance choked out, "F-fine," and the large hand paused.

"Well?" and the word was accompanied by a near gleeful smile. "Where is it?"

"You have her," Lance replied. He had to deflect one last time. Fifteen times should be enough before he slightly gave in to be believable.

Lowet sighed. "This again?"

"I told you," Lance gasped, choking on his words as his toe was pulled backwards. "I don't  _know."_

His toe was fully snapped and Lance's vision whited out.

Stall stall stall, his brain reminded him as his second foot was hoisted up. It also reminded him how much  _pain_ he was in as broken hands and foot throbbed from the abuse and he didn't dare look to see how mangled his fingers had become.

Nothing a cryo-pod couldn't fix, right?

Right.

Time to move onto the next phase of his plan.

"I w-won't," he choked out after they broke his pinky toe.

He could feel the change in the air at this newest declaration.

"Won't," Lowet near purred. "Oh sweetie, see, you did know all along."

Lance said nothing but apparently silence was not golden as his next toe was snapped as well.

"You'll hurt her," Lance managed, not really even acting at that point. Because if they did get their hands on Red, if the Galra did, then she would be hurt. He knew it.

He hoped she wasn't hurting now.

Where  _was_ she?

"Not as much as we'll hurt you," Egnaro promised, his hand tightening on Lance's middle toe. "Tell us now, boy."

"No."

His last three toes followed in the same way and he shrieked as his big one was twisted and then snapped.

He denied every answer with a "no" or "won't" for each break. By the end his head was lolling against the rope and he didn't have the strength to try and lift it even as he felt it chafing.

Everything  _hurt._

And now… now he was out of small things to break. He tried desperately not to think of what came next.

"This isn't working," Lewot sighed, confirming his theory.

"He is a Paladin of Voltron," her companion grumbled. "Figures they'd be hard to break."

Face hidden by the angle, Lance allowed himself a small, tired smirk.

"Guess it's time for the sreilps then," and Lance heard the sound of metal on metal. He pulled his eyes upward and they widened.

Sreipls were pliers, apparently.

Oh  _Dios._

Egnaro positioned the pliers on the tip of his right pinky finger nail. "Last chance, boy," he rumbled. "Tell us where the Red Lion is."

"No," Lance barely whispered, stomach twisting. His eyes were hyper-focused on the scene even though he was internally screaming at himself to not look.

The pliers clamped fully down and with a wrench they pulled away, nail and a splatter of blood coming with it.

Lance's shriek echoed.

They did it again.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Lance's screams never stopped.

xxx

"—would be ideal to position ourselves—oh!" Allura broke off with a gasp from her practice presentation as the Blue Lion flooded her mind with an overwhelming sense of worry.

"Princess!" Coran was at her side within the tick, holding onto her elbow as she bent near double at the mental assault. "What is it?"

"The Blue Lion," she gasped, pressing her other hand to her forehead and trying to calm the tempest growing from the Lion's distress. She had always been able to sense the Lions because of her bond to the castle through her father, but after she had become Blue's Paladin that bond had deepened with the Blue Lion and she could feel her in full detail no matter the distance.

And right now Blue was beyond upset.

"Something is wrong," she continued, massaging her head.

"Shall I get Number One and the others?"

Allura shook her head. "No. Not yet. Let me go to her first." For none of the other Lions housed in the castle were displaying such concern, lending to the fact that this was not some sort of attack on the castle. It would be unwise to call undue panic without understanding the full scope of the situation.

"You know best," Coran released her arm. "Shall I send out a message delaying the meeting?"

"No, there is no need for that," Allura responded. It had taken quintants to have all of the major Coalition leaders available at the same time. "You shall take point, Coran, if this is not resolved in the next varga."

Coran inclined his head. "As you wish."

"Hopefully it is nothing," she tried for a smile but it felt as hollow as her words. Because she had  _never_ felt Blue like this. Something was indeed wrong. She just had no idea as to what.

Grateful she was already in her own armor rather than her more restrictive dress, Allura hurried as quick as she could to the Blue Lion's hangar, calling out mentally to soothe the roaring waves. When she arrived Blue was not seated as she had been but pacing around the hangar, several claw marks rent in the bay door.

"What is it?" Allura skipped straight to it.

The Lions did not speak in words so much as feelings, but Allura was assaulted by what she could only describe as memories of Lance; laughter and grins and the quickest flash in her mind of his soft smile as he gazed up at Blue with pure adoration, followed by that near painful despair and worry.

"Lance?" Allura translated, reaching out a hand to balance against Blue's paw from their bond. "Lance is… in trouble?"

Blue roared, the sound echoing about the hangar and Allura winced at the volume, but Blue was already sending her more thoughts and feelings – the Red Lion, guilt, pain and an all encompassing fear. Allura focused on the first one, tracing her connection to the Red Lion as she had done all those many months ago to locate her on the Galra ship.

She located Red within the dobash. But she was not on Ekal as she should be. She was nearly two quadrants over.

Allura sucked in a harsh breath. What had happened?

"We must go to the Red Lion—" she started and Blue  _roared,_ anger flowing down their link and the feeling so foreign from the Blue Lion that Allura nearly lost her balance again.

"Lance?" Allura proposed then and this time the roar was only inside her head, desperation and worry clawing at the surface.

Blue wanted to go to Lance, Allura deduced. But Lance… Lance was not in the Red Lion?

What had happened?

"Take us to him," she ordered and Blue obliged to lean down and allow Allura to board. She had barely settled into her seat, releasing the hangar doors, before Blue was taking off with a speed that rivaled the Red Lion's. Allura did not even need to steer, the Lion clearly knowing where she was going.

"Coran," Allura connected to the bridge where her advisor looked at her, mouth a thin line of worry. "I believe Lance may be in trouble. Can you reach out to Egnaro and see if he has an idea of what has happened?"

"Right away, Princess. Hold a tick."

Within the dobash Coran returned to the screen, shaking his head."There is no answer, Princess. It could be nothing, but…"

"But it could be everything," her eyes narrowed. "I will inform you of the situation once Blue and I have landed. I know it may be forward to ask, but…" she closed her eyes, hating that such a request was already on the tip of her tongue, "could you make ready a cryo-pod? Just in case."

"It shall be done."

Allura shut off the communications then and turned her gaze to the star-studded universe. Ekal was too close to wormhole to from the castle's current location, but even so the journey should not take more than ten dobashes at the speed in which Blue was moving.

Still…

"Hurry," she whispered to Blue, the Lion's distress and worry settling inside her own stomach.

Blue roared and they pelted through the abyss of space.

xxx

"That's all of the nails," the announcement accompanied by the sound of pliers clattering on a table and a low growl. "Still nothing."

Lance heard the words as though they were coming from far away, head ringing and vision going in and out. He could taste blood from his ravaged throat and his own voice was a mere whispered croak if he had wanted to use it.

He'd kept up his act of knowing where Red was, although every minute that he failed to sense her made him feel even more miserable than the torture because if she had been hurt or captured it was his fault. He should have protected her, made certain this area was safe. She could be in Galra hands right now and he soon to join her.

And he had no one to blame but himself. His head drooped even lower, the ropes pressing deeper into his throat and making him gag near silently.

He couldn't find the strength to lift his head back up though.

A cruel hand twisting in his hair and jerking it upright though did the trick and Lance wheezed in a breath. His tired eyes caught on Lewot's snapping ones and she leaned forward, nearly nose to nose.

"Where is it?" she hissed.

Lance tried to say no but it came out more of a low groan. His tongue felt thick and it ached to move from the number of times he'd bit down on it to keep from screaming.

A closed fist slammed into his wounded side and Lance's vocal cords still had some left to give as a garbled shriek was pulled from him, dark spots dancing in his vision.

"Where is it?" she demanded, ramming her other first into the wound again. "Tell me!"

"N-no," he managed that time, closing his eyes although the complete darkness only made him dizzier. If it weren't for her hand twisted in his hair he honestly wasn't sure if he'd know what direction was up.

"We no longer have time for this," Egnaro's deeper voice cut in. Lance dully wondered when the roles had switched and he had become the calm one. Maybe torturing someone helped dampen his rage? If so, it was an awful version of therapy. "We have a Paladin. It is not quite the same haul but it is more than enough."

"We need the Lion," Lewot growled.

"We need to make the trade before the other Paladins of Voltron arrive when he does not return," Egnaro retorted. 

Lance winced at that. It was still daylight by his account and there were still more than a few varga to go before the others would get worried. Plenty enough time to contact the Galra, broker a trade, and then claim innocence when the Paladins came calling.

He had stalled them, but it had not been for long enough.

And now Voltron was going to be down a Paladin  _and_ even more importantly a missing Red Lion. Lance squeezed his eyes shut to force away the building hot tears.

He'd really messed this up. And the universe was going to be the one to pay the price.

A resigned sigh. "Fine. Make the call. It'll be at least a million GAC still." The hand tightened in his hair. "Not too bad for an afternoon's work." The sound of a door swinging closed was the sign of the other alien's departure.

Fingers tapped against his cheek and without meaning to Lance opened his eyes to meet Lewot's. "Hey, honey," she murmured, although the tone was anything but kind, "Last chance. Tell me where the Lion is and we'll let you go. Promise."

Lance doubted that very much, but his tongue was too heavy to say so.

He cast his mind out one last time, looking for some shred of Red's presence brushing against his own.

His eyes widened. He didn't feel Red, but he felt…

"Blue?" He said her name like a prayer.

"Blue?" Lewot repeated, frowning. "Oh, sweetie," she chuckled. "We really did a number on you."

Blue's roar outside the building, shaking the very foundation, was a better response than anything Lance could have come up with as the alien's eyes filled with horror.

There was the sound of yelling from outside and several explosions shook the ground. An icy chill was permeating the air and Lance had a feeling that Blue was utilizing some of her ice blasts. A small, weary smile made its way onto his face.

It vanished as he felt something sharp dig into the skin under his chin and realized a tick later that Lewot had pushed a knife to his throat, standing behind him.

And now he was a hostage. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, so to speak.

The shouts were growing louder now, the sound of a door being smashed in with a crack of splinters, and a loud, high battle cry that Lance would recognize anywhere.

Allura.

He was torn between feeling insanely relieved by the rescue and embarrassed that she was going to find him trussed up in a chair like this. As his body gave another spasm at the torture it had just endured he changed it completely to relief.

Lewot's hand was shaking slightly, the first sign of fear she had displayed, as the sounds of the others quieted. Lance wasn't surprised. Allura was a complete badass and if a one man – pardon, woman – army was going to take down a group of bounty hunters he had no doubt it would be her. Heck, he'd be shaking in his boots if an angry Allura was coming after him.

The door to the room burst open and Allura strode in, looking as beautiful as an avenging angel and bayard at the ready. Her jeweled eyes widened for the slightest of moments as she took in the scene and Lance tried to offer up a smile but knew it fell very short as a cool rage took over Allura's features.

"Release him," she demanded, accented voice deadly.

"I don't think so, sweetie," Lewot's hand trembled and Lance felt a line of blood trickle down his throat. He held as still as possible against her trembling limb.

"Your team has been neutralized," Allura stalked into the room, coming to stop a few paces away from Lance and to the side of the door.

"I will kill him."

"And I would return the favor with a vengeance." Lance felt his heart stutter in a mixture of admiration, love and slight fear as to where this was going.

"So let us avoid such an outcome," Allura continued. "Release him and I will not stop you. It is my one and final offer."

"You would let me go? Simple as that?"

"Simple as that. I will not stop you."

There was no trace of a lie in Allura's face of words but Lance could almost feel a dark mischief and realized after a moment it was coming from Blue.

Oh.

_Oh._

He swallowed back his own grin and despite the fear and concern he could feel now swimming down the connection he had opened for Blue with that realization, there was a vindictive glee that barely hid a simmering rage. Lance's expression turned grim at the near foreign anger he felt from his – from Allura's Lion.

Why was Blue so… so  _angry?_

His attention at their link was broken as he felt the knife lift away and Lewot take a step backwards, angling towards the door. Allura held her hands open and made no move to advance.

The pink-skinned alien glanced once between Allura and Lance and then took off at a sprint. Allura had barely managed to make her way to Lance's side when there was a shriek and a roar and a new blast of icy air.

Somebody had just been frozen into an ice cube.

Allura was there a moment later, bayard slicing first through the ropes that held his wrists bound to the chair and then his neck, the sudden lack of pressure against his throat making him cough and he tipped forward without the restraint to hold him straight up.

Allura caught him in her arms and he was alarmed to feel a tremble to her as his head rested against her shoulder and flowing hair.

"'m 'kay," he mumbled, not able to offer more than that at the moment. Allura's grip tightened and he could feel her bow her head over his own.

"I am so sorry I did not come sooner," she whispered back. "Oh, Lance… Your hands…"

"Feet too," his mouth answered before his brain and her breath hitched.

"I am—"

"'llura, stop. 's not your fault."

"Nor is it yours," she retorted and Lance could sense that it was not merely a rebuttal but a belief. "I had no idea Egnaro would turn on us. He seemed so earnest…" she trailed off. "Now is not the time for such. Let us get you back to the castle and into a pod."

She pushed him back to slump in the chair and set about freeing his feet from the last of the ropes.

"Can you walk?" she asked, shaking her head before he could answer. "No. Please, allow me to assist you." And before Lance could protest she had leaned forward and scooped him into her arms.

"You're sweeping me off my feet, Princess," Lance teased, although the moment was lost as he bit down a moan of pain as his injured side was jostled.

"Hush," Allura chided gently. "I shall get you settled aboard Blue and then return quickly to take care of this riff-raff."

She carried him outside without delay, stepping carefully over the two downed bounty hunters – the siblings – inside of the house and bypassing the ice cube blocks of the three others outside the house. A small crowd had gathered but were keeping a respectful distance away. Allura paid them no mind and boarded the ramp to Blue, settling Lance with a tender gentleness on the floor of the cockpit and fetching down the emergency blanket and aid kit.

"You will be all right for a few dobashes?" she asked, flipping out the blanket and tucking it over his shoulders.

He made a tired sort of hum of affirmation, slumping into the corner as exhaustion and pain caught up with him from the quick burst of surprised adrenaline Allura's rescue had brought. In the quiet he could sense Blue, the anger all but gone and now only a worried distress surrounding him.

It was the first time they had connected since Lance had switched to the Red Lion. He'd come into Blue's hangar several times after to talk, but her eyes had always remained dark. He understood, even if each time it felt like a new hole was being punched into his heart. She had a new Paladin now. It was important to bond with Allura, to shut him out because she was no longer his.

But now…

"You saved me, didn't you beautiful?" he asked quietly, mangled hand pressing against her wall and feeling the comforting thrum of her engines and life.

Feelings then, too many to focus on, came then, but overarching them all was a deep love and sense of loss that made Lance's breath hitch.

"I missed you too," he whispered. "Bl-Blue…" Her presence wrapped about him like gentle ocean waves and he sank into it. Sank into home. Her purrs reverberated inside of him and he felt tears spring to his eyes for reasons he couldn't fully identify.

He remained in that peaceful lulled state until Allura's boots sounded on the walkway and she emerged into the cockpit, a tight smile on her face and all of Lance's armor, bayard and the beacon in hand.

"This planet system's authorities have been contacted and I have left them to local justice," Allura said, rummaging into the emergency kit and pulling out a water pouch, offering it to Lance. She held it steady while he drained it, hands pillowed in his lap and too broken to do so himself. "They assure me it will be swift and deserving." Lance inclined his head. He didn't want to know any more details then that.

Her tone softened. "Lance… are you all right?"

After a pause he shook his head. "I'm fine," he rasped in clarification. At her raised eyebrow he added, "Mostly. With a pod. But Allura…" Color stole across his cheeks. "Red… I don't… she's gone and—"

Allura held up a hand for silence, closing her eyes. When she opened them the jewel colors were as hard as diamonds. "Red is en route back to the castle," she said, voice deceptively calm and Lance could feel the stirrings of anger in Blue once more.

Lance blinked. He was missing something.

"I do not know much else," Allura continued, "other than the Red Lion moved two systems over from your own, clearly without your knowledge or permission. For now, rest," her hand carded through his hair and Lance leaned into the caress. "We will be back at the castle shortly."

Her gaze narrowed. "And then we will have answers."

xxx

Keith awoke to jumbled voices above him, familiar but not placeable yet. They sounded worried though. And… scared? He blinked open leaden eyelids, the interior of the Red Lion's cockpit swimming into view, and the crouched figures of Coran and Shiro leaning over him.

"Keith!" and Shiro sounded so relieved. "You're awake!" His own relief was echoed by Red's, filling him with a gentle warmth and caress.

"Ah, ah, careful, careful," Coran cautioned as Keith made to move. The warning came too late as fire erupted through his stomach and Keith recalled that he had been impaled. "Easy lad, here, let us."

He felt himself being tipped to sitting and closed his eyes as the world spun around them. There was a wash of heat then and the snapping sound of metal at his back and he realized Shiro had cut off most of the protruding sword.

"What… what happened?" he choked out as Coran's arms shifted on his shoulders and he felt himself being lifted by the deceptively strong Altean.

"We were hoping you could tell us, my boy," Coran replied. "You are at the castle now, in the main hall where the Red Lion brought you."

Keith's eyes shot back open. That was right. Red had rescued him following the near fatal Blade mission. But Red had been…

"Lance," he gasped. "Wh-where's Lance?"

He saw Coran exchange a look over his head with Shiro, whose flesh hand was wrapped about his arm as they walked, and felt his stomach plummet.

"He is en route back to the castle with Allura and the Blue Lion," Coran said carefully as they made their way down the ramp to the hall floor.

There was a sudden roar that filled the impromptu hangar and a moment later the Blue Lion was landing with a thump.

"Ah, there they are," and Coran's relief was palatable. Keith watched, praying the sickening feeling growing in his stomach and compounded by the new feelings of guilt Red was giving off, was an exaggeration. Allura emerged a moment later, Lance cradled in her arms like he was in Coran's. Even from here and under the guise of a blanket Keith could make out red stains on Lance's feet and hands.

"Keith!" Allura gasped and at her exclamation Lance's eyes flew open. Ocean blue met amethyst purple, realization clicking in an instant for them both and the pieces being filled in around them.

"Keith," Lance whispered, the sound a mere croak and as they drew closer Keith could make out dark purple bruises layered around Lance's throat along with a thin trail of crimson, and a darker patch on the blanket over Lance's stomach. The stains on his fingers he realized were because the nails had been ripped completely free.

Keith swallowed, nausea churning even around the sword still embedded in him. Lance had been tortured.

"Lance," he choked out, horrified. Because he knew without a doubt now that Red had left Lance behind to save him. And because of that… Lance had… had…

"No more dilly-dallying," Coran said as Allura drew near level with him, his own eyes tracing Lance's injuries while Keith could feel Allura doing the same to him. "They both need pods right aw—"

His words were swallowed by an earth-shattering roar and the ground shook as Blue  _pounced_ and pinned an unprotesting Red down, maw open and a blue light glowing from her cannon.

They could all feel her anger, as violent and frightening as a tsunami as it lashed about the room, coupled with an equal grief and despair and  _hurt_ that made them tremble in shared pain.

Red's feelings of grief were just as strong, sadness and sorrow, but there was no apology. There was a conviction and that only seemed to make Blue grow angrier. For Keith was not the Red Lion's Paladin, not anymore. And Red's duty was to her current Paladin. Her dereliction of that bond had nearly gotten Lance killed.

"Blue," Allura called, trying to reach through the maelstrom, but Blue only roared, vibrating with anger as she pushed her paws further against the prostrate Red Lion.

"Blue," Lance's whisper was barely audible but it somehow carried. Blue turned glowing yellow eyes in his direction. "It's okay."

She roared then, whipping loose hair and blankets about with the force, but it was not of anger but a desperation that permeated their very souls.

"It's okay, beautiful," Lance repeated. "Blue… Keith needed Red. He…" his eyes cut to look at the sword hilt protruding like a sick flag out of Keith and the dark scarlet all around it, "He was dying. Red saved him. Just like you saved me."

His words rang true with honesty and relief. But there was something else hidden in the tones; a sadness, a realization that Red was not his Lion, not truly. She would always be Keith's. She had left him without a word, not even to garner his help.

Red let out a low, mournful whine and both Red Paladins were struck with heavy feelings of guilt and remorse and Allura inhaled sharply, sensing it too.

"Just… just talk to me next time, okay?" Lance asked Red weakly. "…please?"

The last word came out so small that Keith flinched. He'd done that, inadvertently.

"Red," he said, his own words thick. Coran murmured something above him about time but Keith pushed through. This needed said. "Lance is your Paladin now."

Loss swirled through him, a howl of loneliness that made both Red Paladins flinch again for different reasons.

"Thank you," Keith continued, "for saving me. I owe you my life. But, Red…" he coughed, spitting blood and cries of alarm sounded about him. "Do not  _ever_ endanger Lance like that again. I will  _never_ forgive you."

"Keith…" Lance breathed as Red lowered her head, despair clear but an acknowledgement of his words.

Keith reached over and managed to land a weak squeeze to Lance's visible upper arm. "I'm sorry," he apologized softly.

"I'm not," Lance retorted, feeble smile pulling up his lips. "You'd have died, Keith. This," he winced as he nodded at his injuries, "is  _nothing_ compared to what that would have been like."

The two shared a look then and Keith gave a slow nod. "I'm… I'm glad you're all right."

"You too."

"Neither are you are going to be all right if you don't go in a pod right now," Coran butted in. "I think matters have been settled here for now, yes? Any additional questions can be answered later."

"I concur," Allura said, beginning a brisk trot out of the hall and towards the infirmary. "Lance? Keith?"

"We're good," they said in tandem, sharing a quick grin a moment later before twin winces at the jostling pulled them away.

For as strong as the bond was between Paladin and Lion there was an even stronger one in the universe.

And that was the bond of friendship. And it was unbreakable.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Commission fic for the lovely FrostPheyonix (10k words) with the prompt of Red leaving Lance stranded to go to Keith's aid and then Blue and Allura coming to Lance's rescue. I had a lot of fun with this one and got to really dive into those Lion bonds.
> 
> If you took the time to read the fic and enjoyed it, I kindly ask that you take the time to leave a comment with your thoughts. I'd really appreciate it. Please and thank you.
> 
> (Like my works? Keep up with me on [tumblr, icypantherwrites](http://icypantherwrites.tumblr.com/))


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